“I resented them for it, you know,” he said. “Because two of our parents’ three children had an issue, all three of us were sent away. Our family does that a lot, I think.”

I was all patched up, at least at my side, but I didn’t want to exit the conversation. “Does what?”

“Overreaches when it comes to closing doors or making judgments. Your mother closed off her heart, you know. As if she was so guarded against the idea of showing mercy to the evildoers that she couldn’t afford any for family.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s mercy, exactly.”

“Maybe not. But I always worried about you girls. I hoped Mark had a handle on it.”

He hadn’t. Not really.

“Our parents did the exaggerated defensive maneuver when they sent us away. They never really took us back. Because that’s something else we’re bad at.”

I nodded.

“A few years of them sending us messages saying we could come for Christmas if we wanted. So I would come and Sarah would as well, but your mother wanted to study. Or Sarah and your mother would go and I’d be busy. Then… they kind of ceased to be family.”

“Because they had me and Crystal as young as they were.”

“I never got the impression that was a big thing,” my uncle said. “They were… perfunctory in their grandparent duties. There were grudges and frustrations that felt like they weighed heavier on the family. Speaking for myself, I did resent being sent away for my teenage years, made to spend time with problem children. My parents never did apologize.”

“I can see that. It’s such a shame though. Mom says they’re dead?”

“They probably are. My stupid defensive move was to move away. Jess was a part of it. But the team didn’t feel healthy. You all were growing up and then we heard the kids of people with powers could get powers. Your mom seemed to accept it as a given that you’d be brought onboard. Your aunt surprised me by agreeing, and I think that was her move… establishing an unsafe bubble, not pursuing civilian life. Powers as a part of everything. Even the damn home recipes. We argued like hell.”

“You sound like my old therapist,” I said.

“Was he a smart guy?” my uncle asked.

“She was a smart lady, yes,” I answered. “I still disagreed with her pretty seriously about what the division between cape and civilian should look like.”

“How’s that working out for you?” my Uncle Mike asked, his eye dropping to the tears in my costume and the bandages that covered just about all of the skin there.

“Now you’re sounding like a true member of this family. That was… very much like my mother,” I said, smiling.

He grimaced, looked toward the front of the room, and the grimace softened. “I don’t think I am.”